


may we rest;

by BoiledSweet



Series: city of nightmares [2]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: REDS are cowards, like give me angst, we didnt get enough of these three, with viktor and misty, yeah im still bitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:15:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29357076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoiledSweet/pseuds/BoiledSweet
Summary: You have to face your demons. Even if their faces are of your loved ones.And Viktor won't let you run any longer.
Relationships: Jackie Welles/Reader, Johnny Silverhand & V, Johnny Silverhand/V, Misty Olszewski & V, V/Jackie Welles, V/Viktor Vector
Series: city of nightmares [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156463
Kudos: 22





	may we rest;

**Author's Note:**

> a small exercise that made me cry more than I wanted. AS I SAID WE NEED MORE ANGST WITH JACKIE. and more supportive Misty and Vik.

Your steps are brisk and sharp on the concrete when you make your way down the street. People jump out of your way cursing when you don’t slow down. One man spits your way and you relish in the petrified expression he has when you look at him. 

You turn the corner and come face to face with Johnny. 

“Can you stop fucking seething all the time?” he says with a cigarette between his lips. “Being inside your head every day is already a pain in the ass and you’re not making it any better with your buzzing head.”. 

You go around him, your face a mask but your eyes are a burning fury that you cannot control. 

Since…  _ then  _ you buried yourself in work, just like old times. You’re still surprised how deep your Corpo roots go. It’s almost in your blood at this point. 

You still remember the sleepless nights, the stress and frustration, the drugs that took your mind off of things for a few hours before throwing you between the sharks.

And how you loved it. 

Working was doing things, working was being ahead of others, working was being needed.

Working was forgetting. 

You open the gate and step through, some junkies look your way but when you shoot them a glare they back off. 

“Where did you even meet this Viktor anyway?” he asks and you know he does because he’s bored. You haven't uttered a single word to him for the past week or so. Not that you have to, he’s inside your head and eats you away like a parasite. 

Your silence makes him snort. 

“Whatever. You don’t have to tell me. I will probably stumble upon the memory sometime. Or just look for it and save us both time”.

“Don’t you  _ fucking  _ dare” you snarl, a low sound from between your teeth that shakes your bones. When was the last time you let emotion speak? 

His eyebrows rise with surprise and you stiffen when his eyes shine with interest and mischief. “Oh,  _ hello _ . And here I thought you lost your voice along with your intelligence.” he prompts lightly. 

You flip him off, walk down the stairs and through the sliding gate so fast you’re surprised you didn't get whiplash. 

Neons welcome you from the corners of the wide room, a chair in the middle with blinding white light above. The TV is surprisingly turned off, no grunts of fighters or bells are heard, the buzz of electricity and stench of chemicals your only friends. 

You close your eyes when your vision swims slightly, a warning pops up in the corner. 

“V?” a deep voice asks. 

You look into the shadows of the room and see Viktor on his chair. In his mechanical hand, a small eye implant that you suspect is from Kiroshi. He carefully sets it aside and stands up. You feel his gaze taking your thin, fraught form in. 

It’s strange to see him now. Your last conversation about your inevitable death. 

After Konpeki you haven’t even been in the same district as him and Misty.

Misty. You couldn’t look her in the eyes when she took you home that day. You tore down everything, came out of it the only survivor when you didn’t deserve that and yet she gave you these pills and offered comfort. She probably hates you for what you did. 

You can only kill and destroy. A perfect agent. 

He stops a few steps before you to give you space. It’s almost as if he’s afraid you will run away. Disappear. 

“You wanted to see me. What do you want?” you fold your arms over your chest.

“Do you have to be such a  _ bitch  _ to everyone?” Johnny’s voice cuts in but you drown it out. 

You are tired. So  _ damn  _ tired. 

Of his judgement, of his thoughts echoing in your head, of other people trying to get in your way, of this body, of corporations, of Arasaka, of this  _ fucking  _ city that took and took and  _ took _ .

You just want to be left alone. You against the world. 

Just like it should be. 

Viktor doesn’t look surprised or bothered really by your tone. He watches you knowingly and almost sorrowfully. You can’t stand it.

“I wanted to talk,” he answers after a long time. You scoff loudly and turn away. 

_ You  _ don’t want to. There’s nothing to talk about. What, maybe you should discuss how T-Bugs body is buried somewhere in the Badlands by her neighbours that didn’t want any trouble with Araska? Or how a long-dead rockerboy sits in your brain and eats you away day by day? 

“I don’t have time for that” you walk away but he stops you. With just one word.

“Please”.

Your breath catches. You stop like you've been struck and don’t dare to turn. You don't want to see his expression. You’re too afraid to look. 

Viktor Vector never used that voice with you. It’s too open, too vulnerable, too close. 

“I haven’t seen you in days. You vanished,” he says softly, his moving hand makes the only harsh noise between you. “No sign of life. No calls, texts. I thought Silverhand took you and just...” 

You still stand with your back to him, a deafening silence ringing in your head.

“Misty was worried.  _ I  _ was...” he takes a tired breath. “worried.”

You wonder how hard it must be for him. To say these words to you. 

You know Viktor shorter than others and still are aware that talking about feelings is worse to him than taking a hit at someone. You still remember how he struggled to tell Misty how much he appreciated her and what she did for him. 

“You know I’m not good with all this emotions thing, V” he signs with frustration and exhaustion. “Hell, Misty is better with her witchy stuff at connecting to people than I am” he mutters and you know he’s rubbing his neck. “But what I  _ meant  _ to say… We all lost someone, V. Loved ones, friends, family. We all lost Jackie…” You grind your jaw so brutally your teeth hurt. “and we come to terms with it differently. But cutting everyone out is the worst you could do, V.”.

“It’s different, Viktor” you rasp weakly. 

“I know it is. That’s why…”

“ _ He took a fucking bullet for me _ !” you howl loudly turning to him. “ _ I _ was supposed to carry the damn thing! And they  _ shot  _ him!” you feel your shoulders shake, hands clenched tightly. ”I was there! And what did I do?  _ Nothing _ ! I had no plan B and now he bites the dust!” you stop, your chest heaving painfully. You swallow. “It should have been me”.

Viktor looks at you with shock and despair. His hand rises slightly like he wants to do something but it drops.

You look down, reigning in your emotions. You can't fall apart now. Because you don't believe you will be able to pull together all the pieces again.

“He is my ghost, Viktor. My sin”.

Your voice is quiet and final. It’s the truth you bore deep down since you left him in that car.

Some nights you wake up from sleep and the last thing you remember are his eyes, so full of love and trust. Now dead and gone.

You feel the cold metal on your fingers and look up at him. You don't expect any hug or solace. Both of you are not that kind of people. And even if at some point in time you were, this world already robbed you of that soft part.

“Come,” he says and drags you behind. You don't object, you have no energy for that. You pass the chair and he opens the doors with keys. 

He leaves you in a dark room that smells of plastic and leather. Your senses sharpen and you realize it's a large space. The ceiling is higher and there are no windows. 

You can hear Viktor shuffling around looking for a switch. Suddenly the room fills with light, showing a ring on a platform. Near walls hang punching bags, old posters and even a few used gloves. 

You observe in confusion as Viktor climbs under the ropes and stands in the centre of the ring. He gestures for you to come and you raise a brow.

“What for? I know how to throw a punch. I am not a-”

“Newbie? For me you will always be,” he says wrapping two red gloves around his wrists. “Up, girl. We will see what this merc life taught you”.

You roll your eyes but do as he says. You don’t want the gloves and he accepts, nodding slightly.

You throw the first punch and your knuckles tremble a little. You groan under your breath. 

It’s been some time since you last fought face to face. You prefer moving in the shadows, target after target destroying your enemies one by one from the inside; silently and leaving no trace. That’s why you and Wakako get along so much. Her clients pay more for discretion and you’re a master in that. 

Or at least you are when it doesn’t matter. When your friends' lives are not at stake. 

Jackie's laugh repeats in your ears and you hit Viktor harder than you meant. He stumbles lightly but after seeing your expression he straightens; his expression serious and ready. 

You kick high and he catches you. You push away, take a turn and aim for his legs. Viktor dodges and pats you on the head, mockingly. You groan again and let anger take control. 

Every kick and punch becomes a blur. You want him to suffer. You want him to cough blood. You want to…

You want to hurt someone. Anyone other than Jackie. 

Jackie that gave you the world on the palm of his hand. Jackie that showed you his family and wanted you among them. Jackie that trusted you and encouraged you to do the same, for no reason. For no utter motive that you suspected in the beginning. 

He opened you to the world and you took him from it. 

You should’ve been faster. You should’ve been smarter, more resilient and clever. You should’ve been ruthless. 

You should’ve never changed from how you were when you worked for Arasaka.

The old you would've never approved of a plan so simple and with only one way out. The old you would’ve killed Yorinobu the moment she saw him. 

The old you never would’ve let Jackie die. 

You scream, wraith tearing your throat like claws, and push Viktor so harshly he stumbles back and falls on the ropes, his breathing fast. You stand in the centre of the ring in blinding light gasping, sweat pouring down your cheeks, and muscles pulsing. 

You look to the entrance and see Misty standing there with a grievous expression. You feel your mask crack and fall to the ground, knees hitting with a dull thud. 

You realise the sweat streaks on your cheeks are in fact tears and can’t seem to care enough. 

Misty climbs up and stands before you. 

“ _ I’m so sorry _ ” your voice a strangled whisper, so full of regret and sorrow it drowns you. You can’t hold her gaze and drop it like a coward. You shake your head. “I’m so so sorry. It should-

Thin arms embrace you, the smell of sandalwood and papyrus filling your senses. 

“It was not your fault, V,” she whispers in your ear and you feel like breaking. “It was not your fault,” she repeats stronger this time. “Jackie would’ve wanted you to live on happily. It’s time to let him go.”.

You clunch at her sweater so roughly you are sure it hurts. But she just tugs you in more, sharing her warmth with you. 

And you cry out one last time, hoping Jackie can hear you. May he rest. 


End file.
